


Finally Safe

by LoonyLoopyLisa



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Assassin Clint Barton, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, body switch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 21:00:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21935260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoonyLoopyLisa/pseuds/LoonyLoopyLisa
Summary: Clint woke with a start, looking at the unfamiliar room around him.  Had he been kidnapped again?  The last thing he remembered was going to sleep in a safe house in New York, so why was he waking up in what looked like a bunker?He stood to check the door but something felt off with his balance, like he was listing to the left.  Man, he really needed some coffee.  It wasn’t until Clint approached the door, reaching for it with his--what the fuck, is that metal?--hand that he understood what was happening.It must be his 21st birthday.Shit.***Everyone wakes up on their 21st birthday in the body of their soulmate.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 34
Kudos: 296
Collections: Charity Hawktion 2019, Winterhawk Wonderland





	Finally Safe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shatteredhourglass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shatteredhourglass/gifts).



> For [shatteredhourglass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shatteredhourglass/pseuds/shatteredhourglass) who asked for everyone wakes up on their 21st birthday in the body of their soulmate as part of the [Winterhawk Wonderland Gift Exchange](https://winterhawkwonderland.tumblr.com/). I really hope you like it.
> 
> Special thanks to [Nny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nny/pseuds/Nny) for the beta as part of the [Charity Hawktion](https://charityhawktion.tumblr.com/).

Clint woke with a start, looking at the unfamiliar room around him. Had he been kidnapped again? The last thing he remembered was going to sleep in a safe house in New York, so why was he waking up in what looked like a bunker?

He stood to check the door but something felt off with his balance, like he was listing to the left. Man, he needed some coffee. It wasn’t until Clint approached the door, reaching for it with his--what the fuck, is that metal?--hand that he understood what was happening.

It must be his 21st birthday.

Shit.

Clint had been dreading this day since taking on the alias Ronin and becoming a killer for hire. No one would want to be his soulmate after learning about the fucked up things he had done, which, really, was what he deserved. Learning about his soulmate was just going to lead to another disappointment in a long line of disappointments.

Clint knew having a soulmate would end badly but he couldn’t deny the tiny shred of curiosity about the person he had woken up as, especially now that he had seen the metal arm. Clint reached to open the door but it was locked from the outside.

Weird. Why would his soulmate be in a locked room?

Was he some kind of serial killer or something? Not that Clint had any room to judge, really-- maybe it made sense, the universe pairing up two fuck ups. At least it’d keep them away from anyone else.

Clint sat back down on the bed, looking around the room for another way out. Maybe he could fit through the vents? Then again, glancing down at his body, maybe not. He was a lot wider around the shoulders than he used to be.

Luckily Clint didn’t need to wait very long before the door opened. Unluckily, the people who came in didn’t seem very friendly. They said something in a language he didn’t understand. When Clint didn’t move they repeated the words more forcefully, brandishing guns at him. Even if this wasn’t his body, he didn’t want to get shot. Clint walked out the door.

The men followed Clint as he walked down the long corridor. He tried to pay attention to his surroundings but everything looked the same.

Clint was finally deposited in a room they had clearly tried to turn into an office. The floors and walls were still concrete but there was a rug spread under a desk. There was an older blond man behind the desk, reading what looked like a report. He obviously knew Clint was there but didn’t acknowledge him. Was this some kind of power play?

The man finally looked up and addressed him. “Soldier, I have a new mission for you.”

Clint wasn’t sure what to say in response so he stayed quiet. Apparently that was the right choice because the man continued to talk. “Rumlow will lead the mission. You are to kill the target from a distance. Leave no witnesses. Do you understand?”

Clint very much did not understand but he also didn’t want to get shot in the face, so he answered, “yes,” hoping he would be able to find out more from this Rumlow person.

Clint was led to an underground garage and bundled into the back of a windowless van. No clues about his location there. He rode along in the van for over an hour before it finally stopped. Clint was tired and hungry but was pretty sure complaining wouldn’t get him anywhere good.

A dark-haired man opened the van door, allowing Clint to exit. There were several other men with him, all with weapons pointed down. It didn’t look like it would take long for them to raise those weapons and point them at him, however. He looked around at his surroundings instead. Several small wooden houses were lining the street with some apartment complexes and businesses further down. Small yards were filled with bare trees and everything was covered in a light dusting of snow.

The man led Clint to a small building.

“Kill this target,” the man said, brandishing a photo at Clint, “from the top of this building. He will be exiting that building.” He pointed to a house down the street.

Clint checked the sightlines from where he stood. “Wouldn’t that one be better?” he asked, pointing to an apartment complex near the target’s house.

Clint’s face snapped back with the force of the man’s backhand.

“You do not get to question orders,” the man snarled. “You are a weapon, nothing more. You do not have ideas or opinions. Do I make myself clear?”

The other men had moved, surrounding Clint with weapons pointed at him. Normally, Clint would take this chance to mouth off but he didn’t like his odds in an unfamiliar body. Besides, it would kind of be a dick move to get his soulmate shot and then fuck back off to his own body the next day, leaving whoever this was to deal with recovery. Retreat was the better option then.

“I understand,” he mumbled, eyes down. Clint felt a surge of pity -- maybe he wouldn’t be the worst thing that had happened to his soulmate, after all.

Clint climbed to the roof of the building, the fire escape getting him most of the way. The other men stayed on the ground but spread themselves out down the street. That seemed like a lot of people for one target getting taken out by sniper, unless they were expecting more resistance. But wouldn’t they have told their sniper if that were the case?

Unless they weren’t there to help with the mission. Clint thought about how quickly they had all aimed their guns at him for questioning an order. Were they there just to control him?

Who the fuck was his soulmate?

 _You are a weapon, nothing more_ the man had said. Was his soulmate here against his will? Clint wasn’t sure how they got someone to kill for them but the way he had been hit just for having a better idea meant it probably wasn’t an ideal partnership.

Clint had a whole lot of questions and he didn’t like any of the answers he had gotten so far.

The target walked out of his house. Did Clint want to take this shot? He didn’t know if the target had done anything to warrant getting killed by sniper rifle. What would happen to his soulmate if he didn’t take it? Nothing good, Clint was sure. Besides, it wasn’t like it was much different from what he did every day.

Clint lined up the shot and took it, the man falling in a spray of blood.

Clint packed up his equipment as quickly as he could, a plan forming in his head as he did it.

He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know whose body he was in. There were several men with weapons who would bring him in. Escape was out of the question, at least for right now.

Clint would need to bide his time, try to find information about his soulmate and his location. When he was back in his own body he would rescue him. Even meeting his soulmate and knowing for sure he hated him for being a killer was better than leaving him here, right?

Clint just needed to figure out how to save him. He could do that.

***

The Soldier woke up in a comfortable bed in a small apartment. There was no one around. There were small objects on the table next to him. Comms maybe? He put them in his ears and turned them on but no one started talking, however, they seemed to amplify sound.

Leaving them in the Soldier decided to explore the apartment. Maybe the handlers were in another room. A quick walkthrough proved that he was alone. The Soldier wasn’t sure he had ever been alone before.

His stomach rumbled, but there was no one around to give him a protein bar or tell him he could eat. He stopped, unsure of what to do next. His stomach rumbled again. If they didn’t want him to eat they should be here to tell him that, he reasoned.

The Soldier opened the cabinets and fridge but all he found was a cardboard box with pizza inside and a coffee machine. Deciding it was better than nothing the Soldier ate a piece of cold pizza while he waited for the coffee to brew. He drank the coffee and ate more pizza, contemplating what to do.

Was this a test? If so, what was the correct response? Should he wait until his handlers contacted him or should he find his way back to them?

Glancing down at the coffee cup in his hand the Soldier froze. Something was very wrong. His left hand was flesh and blood, no longer the metal he was used to seeing. The Soldier scrambled to his feet. What had happened to him?

There had to be a mirror someplace. The Soldier raced to the bathroom where he found a dirty mirror hanging above the sink. The face that looked back at him was all wrong; short blond hair above eyes that were sky blue instead of gunmetal, a slimmer build than he was used to, and a flesh left arm.

His handlers couldn’t have done this.

Who had? And why?

The Soldier wasn’t sure but if they had enough power to change his body than he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out what else they could do. He found body armor which he pulled on, hiding its bulk under sweatpants and a hoodie. He shoved his feet into combat boots he found lying nearby and placed a ballcap on his head, pulling it down to cover his eyes. Ignoring the bow and arrows inexplicably placed by the door he tucked an assortment of knives into his clothes and boots. The Soldier spotted a handful of money on a side table. He tucked it into a pocket before deciding he was ready to go.

The Soldier paused by the door, listening for voices outside but heard nothing. He opened it slowly, his other hand near a knife just in case but no one was there. Keeping to the walls he snuck down the stairs but didn’t encounter anyone. He made it out of the building and onto the street.

The Soldier had been trained to blend into any surrounding but he couldn’t stop himself from stopping and looking around. He wasn’t sure where he was but it was definitely not where he had been. There were so many people around, giving him dirty looks as they walked around him. The street was filled with cars, and people were yelling and honking as they drove.

How far had he been taken?

The Soldier chose a direction at random and started walking.

He eventually found himself in a park, people lounging on blankets while dogs chased balls and frisbees. There was a cart selling hotdogs. The Soldier’s stomach rumbled again. How long had he been walking? He wasn’t used to acting without instructions and had fallen into the mindset he used while his handlers moved him.

Digging into his pockets he found some American money. He was in the United States then, that helped. He bought two hotdogs then found a bench to sit on while he thought about his next move.

The Soldier found himself watching people living their lives. There was one man in particular he couldn’t stop watching. He was small and blond and appeared to be sketching something. The Soldier wasn’t sure why he was so drawn to the man but watched until the man checked the time on his phone and cursed, hurriedly packing everything up and walking away. The Soldier felt an impulse to follow the man but he ignored it in favor of tilting his face back to feel the sun.

It wasn’t long before the Soldier was restless again and he stood to walk. That was when he noticed a woman watching him. She had dark red hair falling in curls down her back and a long dress on. She held herself like someone who knew how to fight.

The Soldier thought about engaging but he didn’t know if she had any weapons or whether she was alone here. He still had the knives he had taken from the apartment but he did not have any backup. It would not be a smart choice to approach her.

Decision made, the Soldier started to walk, choosing a path that led away from the woman. He could feel her watching him but she didn’t follow.

Several blocks later the Soldier came across a newsstand. He bought a copy of the New York Times and walked to a diner. Still rattled by the redhead, he chose a seat where he could keep an eye on the exits, then looked through the paper.

A server approached him holding a pad of paper. “What can I get ya, sweetheart?” she asked.

The Soldier couldn’t remember the last time someone had asked what he wanted. “Chocolate shake, burger, and fries,” he answered automatically.

She nodded as she wrote down his order then walked away, oblivious to his confusion. How had he known what to ask for?

Shaking it off he looked through the paper, taking note of the date. Comparing pictures and locations in the articles to the places he had seen walking around proved he was in New York. Last he had known he was in eastern Europe. How had he gotten to New York?

Lost in thought he almost missed the server setting down his food. He thanked her automatically and laid the paper down, thinking hard as he ate.

It was unlikely whoever had moved him would have managed to keep him unconscious long enough to fly him across the world. But how else could he have made it here?

Had they done something to his memory?

He knew Hydra was capable of that.

Had they done this somehow?

But how would they have changed his appearance so much? And why?

The Soldier finished his meal and left, leaving enough cash on the table for the food and a tip.

He would be in New York for an unforeseeable amount of time but he couldn’t go back to where he had woken up. He needed to find someplace new to stay, at least until he figured out what was going on.

He would figure out what to do next after that.

***

Clint met up with the handlers near the van, taking note of everything he could on the way. The signs appeared to be in a Slavic language, which narrowed his options down.

Clint considered trying to sit in the front of the van but one glance at the other men’s guns convinced him that was not a good plan. Luck, however, was on his side for once.

“Rollins,” the man who seemed to be the leader said, “sit in the back with the Asset, he’s acting oddly.”

Rollins separated from the rest of the group, glaring as he climbed into the back of the van across from Clint.

This was Clint’s chance to get information but he had to be careful. Clint waited until they had been driving for a while before speaking up. “How long until we stop? I don’t feel good,” he said, trying to sound queasy.

Rollins looked even unhappier at being addressed. “Hold it together,” he snapped. “I’m gonna be pissed if you get sick while I’m back here.”

Clint nodded and kept his head down, trying to look carsick. It apparently worked because Rollins used a radio to tell the others to pull over and let them out.

Clint stumbled from the van, leaning over and pretending to gag, all while looking at their surroundings. They were the only vehicle in sight on a long stretch of road. There was what looked like a small farm nearby. Clint stood fully, taking deep breaths before walking back toward the van.

“Rumlow,” Rollins was saying,” I’m not getting back in there with him about to puke! You do it if you want someone back there so bad.”

The man in charge, Rumlow, snorted. “We’ll give him a bucket and have the new guy sit with him and when we get back to base we’ll have the techs look him over in case he’s getting sick.”

Clint stepped around the van into Rumlow’s view. “Get back in the van,” Rumlow barked. “Johnson, find a bucket for him and sit with him.”

A young man, pale with red hair, nodded nervously. He rummaged through the supplies in the van before handing Clint a bucket and gesturing him towards the van. Rumlow snorted but didn’t say anything, watching as first Clint than Johnson climbed into the van, slamming the door behind them.

Johnson seemed nervous about being alone with Clint. Clint kept the bucket in his lap and his head down. It wasn’t long before Johnson began to talk.

“We should be close to the base. Just try to hold it in until we get there.”

Clint grunted but didn’t say anything in reply.

“I don’t know why you have to ride back here, it’s not like there’s anywhere to go even if you wanted to leave.” Johnson was quiet for a minute. “You don’t want to leave, right?”

Clint didn’t answer.

“It’s just, I thought everyone who joined Hydra did it willingly, you know?”

Clint didn’t know. Hydra though, that was interesting, he thought they were gone.

Johnson was quiet again. “What’s your name?”

Clint didn’t answer.

“They all call you Asset or Winter Soldier, but you have to have a name, right?”

Clint’s head snapped up. Winter Soldier? His soulmate was the fucking Winter Soldier? Clint had heard of the Winter Soldier in whispers from terrifying people who were terrified of the ghost story. They claimed he didn’t have emotions, that he never left anyone alive. Some thought that speaking his name out loud would cause him to show up and kill them. Clint hadn’t thought he was real.

His soulmate was the Winter Soldier.

Johnson paled even further. “Sorry man! I didn’t mean to upset you. Please don’t kill me,” he finished in a small voice.

Clint cleared his throat. “I’m not going to kill you,” he said.

Johnson let out a relieved sigh. “I appreciate it. I told my mom I was going to school, if I die in middle of nowhere Latvia she’d never know.”

The van stopped and Johnson stopped talking but that was fine with Clint, he had gotten more information than he had hoped. Latvia wasn’t very big, it couldn’t be that hard to figure out where his soulmate was. Even knowing his soulmate was the Winter Soldier wouldn’t stop Clint from rescuing him.

Clint was led to some people in lab coats, the techs apparently, who checked over the metal arm. They took his temperature begrudgingly and only after Johnson mentioned it three times. They declared him fit but decided to wait to ‘wipe’ him to make sure he wasn’t sick so they sent him straight back to his prison cell of a room. Clint wasn’t sure what the ‘wipe’ was about but he was glad that he wouldn’t have to experience it. Johnson gave him a sad smile before locking him in.

Someone eventually brought Clint a protein bar and water before leaving him alone again. He used the time alone to plan a rescue before finally laying down and going to sleep. First thing in the morning he was going to start step one of his plan.

***

The Soldier was looking for a place to stay for the night when he saw the same small blond man from the park. He was in an alley and it looked like he was getting beat up. The Soldier should avoid drawing attention to himself but he couldn’t make himself keep walking.

Unsure about what he was doing, the Soldier waded into the fight, pulling the larger man off. The man looked ready to fight the Soldier until he noticed the size of his arms and shoulders. He didn’t fight as the Soldier threw him out of the alley. The Soldier turned back to the smaller man, feeling an odd sense of deja vu as he did so.

The smaller man was scowling. “I had him on the ropes!” he declared, wiping the blood off his face.

The Soldier rolled his eyes, “Sure you did, punk.”

The smaller man froze. “Bucky?” he asked quietly.

“Who the hell is Bucky?” the Soldier asked, confused. The name had an odd familiarity to it but the Soldier couldn’t pinpoint why.

The man looked up and his face fell. “Sorry, I thought you were someone else.” He took a step closer, eyes narrowed in concern. “Are you feeling alright? You’re awfully pale. Can I buy you a cup of coffee or something, as thanks?”

The Soldier felt a flash of panic so intense that he immediately backed away, turning once he was out of the alley. He didn’t pay attention to where he was going, just blindly putting as much distance between the blond man and himself.

He found himself in front of a rundown apartment building. Surely there would be an empty apartment he could stay in for the night. He just needed some time to think and he would be able to come up with a plan.

There was an empty apartment at the top of the building, the Soldier broke in and collapsed on the dusty couch. He had been away from Hydra for an entire day. No one had tried to capture him, he had been able to make his own choices, and no one had made him kill anyone all day.

He was finally free.

They might try to come after him but the Soldier could plan for that. He would find someplace quiet to go, somewhere no one would think to look for him. He fell asleep with a smile on his face.

***

Clint woke in a dusty apartment, disoriented and confused. Where was he? The events of the previous day came rushing in and Clint sat up so quickly he felt lightheaded.

His soulmate was the Winter Soldier.

The Winter Soldier needed to be saved.

Clint needed to find a phone.

It took a moment to find his bearings as he left the apartment but it wasn’t long before Clint was walking down the street, looking for a payphone.

Why were there no payphones anymore?

Too bad the Soldier had left Clint’s phone back at the safehouse.

Clint finally found his way back to the safehouse. Luckily his phone was still plugged in where he had left it. He hesitated briefly before placing the call but he knew he would do anything for his soulmate, even teaming up with Shield.

***

The Soldier woke in the bunker. He glanced around but nothing had changed.

It had all been a dream then. Or maybe some new torture devised by Hydra.

Oatmeal and water were pushed into the small room for his breakfast. He ignored it, turning back to the wall and closing his eyes.

***

Clint had his gear in a duffle bag, waiting impatiently at the cafe Natasha had chosen.

“Clint,” she greeted warmly as she sat across from him. “I was so happy to hear from you, especially after you ran from me yesterday. Unless, of course, that wasn’t you yesterday?” she asked, her eyes boring into him.

Clint didn’t want to share the details, but, well, he needed help. She probably already knew the answer anyway.

“That was my soulmate,” he started, watching her closely, “the Winter Soldier.”

Her eyes barely widened but Clint had worked with her before she had joined Shield and knew her tells. He sighed, knowing he would be explaining everything he knew at least once. Saving his soulmate was worth more than his uneasiness at sharing what he knew.

After what felt like hours had passed they had come up with a plan. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Clint asked for the third time. “Government agencies don’t tend to like me.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Shield is different. And anyway, if you want to rescue the Winter Soldier we’re going to need some backup.”

Clint was pretty sure this meeting was going to end with him selling his soul to the devil but he was willing to do anything to help his soulmate. Even partnering up with Shield.

***

The Soldier hadn’t moved from his spot on the bed in days. He could tell the handlers were nervous but the newest one said something about being sick recently and they all seemed to accept that as the reason.

Maybe he had hallucinated the whole experience.

He should have known he would never be free again.

There was a loud crash from down the hallway, the sounds of gunfire breaking out. The Soldier sat up but he knew the door would be locked from the outside.

The noise continued, yelling and cursing interspersed with gunfire. There was a small explosion right outside his door. It swung open and somebody walked through, exclaiming, “finally!” as they saw the Soldier.

The man was familiar, tall and blond. What was his hallucination doing in his cell?

The man seemed to sense his confusion. “Hey, my name’s Clint.”

The Soldier didn’t respond. The gunfire was much louder now that the door was open.

“Listen,” the man continued, “I’ll totally explain everything later, but for now I need you to trust me and come with me.” He held out his hand.

What if this was a trick of some kind? The man might be taking him to another cell in another base somewhere.

Something in the Soldier wanted to trust this man even if he didn’t understand why. He reached out a hand. They touched and it felt like a shock ran through his body and his mind. He gasped out loud and fell as memories flooded his brain--growing up with Steve, joining the army, getting captured, and, oh god, the things they had done to make him the Winter Soldier.

The Soldier, no, Bucky, barely noticed Clint stationing himself between Bucky and the door, protecting him from anyone that tried to come in until he was ready to stand.

The gunfire died down and a familiar-looking redhead looked inside. “This floor is clear, I’ll continue sweeping lower but you should be safe to exit.”

Clint glanced down at Bucky. “Ready to get out of here?”

Bucky gingerly placed his hand in Clint’s and together they walked out of the bunker and into their new lives together.

***

Clint whistled to himself as he walked down the street to the apartment he shared with Bucky and their dog.

It had taken a lot of convincing on his part and help from Natasha and, surprisingly, Coulson, but Fury had signed off on letting Bucky live his life away from Shield. Shield had insisted that Bucky see a shrink but the visits seemed to be helping.

Clint had agreed to work with Shield in exchange for their help in rescuing Bucky. It wasn’t all that different from working freelance except he had more backup and security. And he got to work with Natasha again.

Clint dodged a group of carolers and people completing their Christmas shopping before ducking into their apartment building, finally escaping the crowds. He opened the door to their apartment and stopped in his tracks. Bucky had found a tree and was in the middle of decorating it. There was Christmas music in the air, lights on the floor, and tinsel in Bucky’s hair. Lucky was covered in obscene amounts of glitter.

Bucky noticed Clint and danced closer, holding a sprig of mistletoe above his head. Bucky still had nightmares and bad days but after almost a year out of Hydra’s hold the good days were outnumbering the bad. Clint was so proud of him he could barely contain himself, bragging to Natasha about every small step he had made.

Clint fully entered the apartment and kissed Bucky in greeting. Bucky’s happiness was contagious and Clint felt his affection for him bubbling out of his chest. He laughed and reached out to Bucky, twirling him around in time to the music as Lucky joyfully danced around them.

“I like your new look,” Clint teased, pulling a strand of tinsel from Bucky’s long hair and dangling it in front of his face.

Bucky couldn’t hide the laughter in his eyes as he playfully scowled, swiping the tinsel from Clint’s hand. Clint bent down to greet Lucky and was quickly bowled over by the excited dog. Bucky laughed as Clint ended up with a lapful of wiggly mutt.

Bucky came to the rescue, throwing Lucky’s ball across the room. Lucky raced after the ball, allowing Clint to get up from the floor.

“I like your new look,” Bucky teased. Confused, Clint glanced down at himself and saw the massive amounts of glitter Lucky had left all over his clothes. He tried unsuccessfully to brush it off before peering at Bucky.

Moving quickly, Clint wrapped Bucky in a hug, holding him tightly and spreading the glitter to his clothes. Bucky halfheartedly struggled to get away before relaxing into Clint’s embrace.

“We’re never going to be able to get rid of all this glitter,” Bucky grumbled into Clint’s ear.

Bucky continued to grumble about the glitter but Clint couldn’t hold his affection in any longer. “I love you,” he told Bucky.

They would finish decorating the tree later and then go see Bucky’s family. Tomorrow was reserved for Steve. But right now was just for Clint and Bucky.

“I love you too,” Bucky said with a beautiful smile on his face.

And even after everything, after killing people for money and believing he would never be worthy of love, Clint believed him.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [safe and sound (finally safe remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24813142) by [tintedglasses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tintedglasses/pseuds/tintedglasses)




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